


D-DE-DEF

by katilara



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 11:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18260654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katilara/pseuds/katilara
Summary: “You know I never do anything without a reason, Detective.”“Please don’t make me actually give you the list of reasons you’re stupid, Diego,” she said. “It really is very long, and you already know most of it.”“Most?” he asked, giving her what he hoped was more of a smile than a grimace. His face hurt as much as the rest of him and he wasn’t sure he had complete control over it.“I’ve been keeping some for a rainy day,” she said.





	D-DE-DEF

**Author's Note:**

> My friend said I should post this to AO3, even though I worry it's too short. Written as a response to a prompt [on Tumblr](http://charmingpplincardigans.tumblr.com). I was given "TUA + defenestration." 
> 
> Someone stop me from writing a whole fifteen thousand words on Diego and Eudora. I don't have the time for it, but I do have a deep need to make good things happen for Eudora Patch. She deserves them!!

Diego thought he might be dead.

One minute he had been throwing himself at a guy twice his size in a fourth floor apartment and the next minute he had been thrown. He didn’t remember the fall. His mind had, blessedly, chosen the moment he crossed the threshold of the window to black out. His body remembered though, and every muscle and bone screamed at him in protest as he sat up and checked his head for blood.

There were lights flashing. He couldn’t tell if they were inside or outside of his head.

“Hey! Hey, you!” It was a familiar voice.

Diego groaned and pulled himself to his knees. Outside of his head then.

“No, stay down.”

A hand hit his shoulder and he looked up to see Eudor—no, she hated when he called her that on duty—Detective Patch standing over him. Her brow was furrowed and her lips were set in a thin line. “You’re a lucky son of a bitch,” she said.

“It’s good to see you too, detective.” He tried to stand up and she pushed harder on his shoulder to keep him down. “Are you gonna cuff me, or do you just like seeing me down here?”

Her lip quirked, “Maybe I do, a little, but no. It needs to look like I’m explaining to you in _excruciating detail_ how stupid you are and how stupidly lucky you are that the woman who called 911 identified you as the person who attacked her attacker instead of just some random asshole with knives who broke into her apartment for no reason.”

“You know I never do anything without a reason, Detective.”

“Please don’t make me actually give you the list of reasons you’re stupid, Diego,” she said. “It really is very long, and you already know most of it.”

“Most?” he asked, giving her what he hoped was more of a smile than a grimace. His face hurt as much as the rest of him and he wasn’t sure he had complete control over it.

“I’ve been keeping some for a rainy day,” she said. “God, Diego, we have got to stop meeting like this.”

“You won’t meet me any other way, and I miss your charming personality.”

“No, I won’t” she said. “And we both know it’s not my charm you miss.”

“It’s a little of what I miss,” he said rolling his shoulders and stretching so he could brush her hip with his hand.

She released his shoulder and smacked him in the back of the head. “Do you need help up?”

“As you can tell,” he said, planting his foot on the cement in front of him and grunting against the pain. He noticed suddenly that he and the cement were damp. Had it been raining when he went inside? Or had he been out longer than he thought? “I’m perfectly capable of standing on my own.”

He tried to push himself up, faltered and fell hard on his knee, let out a colorful string of curses, and then tried again. This time he managed to get himself mostly to his feet and he landed heavy against Eudora’s side as he toppled. She grunted under his weight and pushed him off her.

When he turned to look at her the whole scene slid into focus finally. There were three patrol cars at the end of the alley, lights going. Four uniforms were milling around and studying what he assumed was his path down to the ground which included a broken fire escape railing and an awning with a hole in it.

Eudora crossed her arms and tilted her head. She was waiting to see what he would do next

She was pretty in any light, but the combination of the orange-sulfur lights of the alley and the blue-white-red flashing off the cars managed to make her look like she was made of stained glass: glowing from within, colorful, fragile, shot through with lead bars in spite of the rest. She was just a woman—no special powers, no maniacal father who made her train from the time she could walk, no inbred sense of superiority. She _was_ fragile, and for that reason alone she could be the bravest person he knew.  There were other reasons of course, and her fragility was not what made him love her. It was the way she worked against it at every turn, how she chose over and over to be better than those around her.

“Diego?” she asked, reaching for his face. Concern lurked at the edge of her voice. “Do you have a concussion?”

He couldn’t believe she had ever chosen to accept him into her life, no matter how briefly, that she still chose every day not to write him off entirely as the asshole he was. It _almost_ made him want to be a better man.

Then another realization hit him and, against his better judgment, Diego started to laugh, which was unfortunate because how much it fucking hurt.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she hissed. She thought a moment, then pulled her hand back and said, “No, I don’t want to know.”

“It’s, it’s de-,” he started, knowing he wouldn’t be able to finish. “De-defen-de.” He laughed harder, holding his hands against his ribs to try and keep them from moving too much.

“Defense?” she said. “That’s what the woman told us.”

“No, no. I can’t say it. The window.” He pointed up.

Diego had never been able to say the word defenestration. Usually his stutter only manifested under pressure, and as such was a sensitive subject, but for this particular word there was a more involved and touch toughened history. They had all learned at eleven that for some reason, that word just would not work in his mouth no matter how much he visualized or practiced. He didn’t figure he’d ever need it, not really. Not after Klaus and Ben had spent a full month ruthlessly mocking him over it by dropping it into conversations he was in. They had even created a List Of Ways To Kill Diego, which was just fourteen different forms of defenestration. It had been creative, but Mom found it and put an end to the whole thing.

When he could catch his breath he said, “I’m glad I didn’t die.”

He was thinking he was glad he didn’t die that way especially because, even though it had been more than a decade since all of that and they’d lost Ben in the meantime, he was sure Klaus would remember and make sure that his cause of death was on his grave marker. Or rather, probably his grave marker would read: DIEGO HARGREEVES – D-DE-DE-DEFEN-SSS. Because Klaus was a fucking asshole.

Eudora’s face softened. “I’m glad you didn’t die too, you jerk.”

“Would you miss me?” he asked.

“I would consider it a real pleasure to be able to get to miss you,” she said. “But apparently you’re the only one around here with any luck at all.” 


End file.
